


Departmental Affairs

by kesomon



Category: Back to the Future (Movies), Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Challenge Response, Crossover, Gen, Humor, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 14:03:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10413822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kesomon/pseuds/kesomon
Summary: Just another day at the Department of Temporal Investigations.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Response for SeaSAW (Seattle Society of Artists and Writers) group weekly challenge: Crossover two fandoms (randomly picked from a hat), the plots of which are nigh-exclusively related to time travel or the manipulation of the timeline. 
> 
> My fandoms wound up being Back to the Future and Star Trek TNG. I maybe cheated a little, since I took Agent Dulmer from a Deep Space 9 episode instead. Same timeline!
> 
> Sorry it's short, but I had to keep it within a reasonable wordcount. Idea is adoptable for anyone who would like to expand it!

Summer in San Francisco. The sun was shining, the breeze was cool, and the cries of seabirds and laughter drifted on the wind. It was a beautiful day at Starfleet.

Alas, the weather could not bring one particular person happiness. Agent Dulmer, standing in his office at the Federal Department of Temporal Investigations, scowled over the rim of his coffee. On his desk, an ever-increasing pile of reports was stacked high; on top, the latest... _incident_ involving the Gods-bedamned USS Enterprise.

“Damn you, Picard,” he muttered. What was it about the Captains of that ship that made them such menaces to the time stream? Kirk alone had ended his career with no less than 17 separate temporal incidents. Picard looked to be gaining on that record. It was enough to drive any Agent of the DTI to drink. Agent Dulmer, not one to imbibe while on the clock, settled for glaring through his window at the bright and cheerful world outside, and brooded.

Outside, on the Starfleet campus green, arc-lighting suddenly crackled and spat across the well-manicured lawn. Students scattered with startled screams as, with a swirling, energised flash, a 21st century automobile with some decidedly 22nd century tech roared out of a temporal portal about a foot off the ground. The model (recognisably a 1981 DeLorean DCM-12) bounced twice on the grass, gained grip, and zipped its way very drunkenly into a hedge, where it was brought to an abrupt halt.

Agent Dulmer watched, unphased, as the passenger-side gull door lifted and a young man in a red vest crawled out to be sick in the bushes. From the other side, an older man with crazy white hair leaped into the sun, spreading his arms in an obvious exultation of victory.

As campus security closed in to apprehend the time-travellers, Agent Dulmer sighed and turned back to his desk, pressing the comms button. "Julia? Can you bring me the forms for pre-millenial temporal first-contact?" A pause. "And an asprin?" He released the button, sat down, and put his head in his hands. Just another day at the DTI.


End file.
